


Roommate Troubles

by Bookworm1121



Series: Queliot One Shots [9]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eliot and Quentin are roommates, Family Member Death, Fluff, Insomnia, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Roommates, Sleeping Together, but are also online boyfriends, no magic, who hated each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-01-16 04:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookworm1121/pseuds/Bookworm1121
Summary: Quentin hated his roommate, Eliot Waugh, so he joined an online chatroom to rant about crappy roommates. Soon, he connects with a man on the site, and they begin online dating.Then Quentin realizes the man is Eliot, his shitty roommate.





	1. Freshman Year

**Author's Note:**

> This was 1,400 words less, and then the finale happened so I wanted relationship snippets.

Quentin never thought he would have an online boyfriend; however, it happened. Quentin and "Drink Master" met on an online service about shitty roommates. Immediately, they clicked and began talking on a separate chat. Within three weeks, Quentin and "Drink Master" began online dating. After a month of dating, they decided they wanted to meet in person.

 

Needless to say, Quentin was nervous. Nervous to the point where he was asking his roommate, Eliot, for advice. Quentin waited, impatiently, for Eliot to come to the dorm. As much as Quentin hated Eliot, Eliot had good fashion taste, and Quentin wanted "Drink Master" to be impressed.

 

So, when Eliot walked through the door, Quentin immediately stood, "Uh, hey. I was wondering if you can help me with something."

 

Eliot bit his lip, fighting a groan, "What?"

 

"I have a date, and I want to impress him. But I don't know what to wear. Normally I would ask Julia, but she's across the country."

 

Eliot rolled his eyes, "Your clothes suck," Quentin ignored the sting forming, "so you aren't going to impress him."

 

Quentin's shoulders sank, "Oh," he said, playing with his hands, distracting himself, "makes sense."

 

Eliot sighed, "Sorry, that was mean. I'll help you, but only if you promise to stay out of the dorm tonight. I'm meeting a guy tonight, and I'm hoping to get lucky."

 

Quentin nodded, "Fine. If the date goes well, hopefully, he'll let me stay the night."

 

"Maybe then you won't be as uptight," Eliot muttered, and Quentin rolled his eyes. Eliot went through Quentin's closet, picking through the clothes, "You need better taste in clothes. You have the worst wardrobe."

 

"Just help with an outfit. I don't need your feedback about it," Quentin snapped.

 

Eliot laughed, harshly, "You definitely do."

 

Quentin crossed his arms, watching Eliot. After ten minutes, Eliot picked out an outfit. Awkwardly, Quentin thanked him and got ready for his date. They changed in silence.

 

. . .

 

Quentin's leg bounced, excitedly, as he waited. Quentin continued thinking about his list of things to avoid on their first official date. "Drink Master" already knew a lot about Quentin, but Quentin feared he'd say something weird or annoying.

 

Fifteen minutes passed, and "Drink Master" had yet to arrive. Anxiously, Quentin ordered a glass of water to calm his nerves. His waitress, Alice, was insanely kind to him. She offered him a glass of wine—knowing of his underage status—to help his nerves, but Quentin politely declined.

 

After thirty minutes, Quentin sent "Drink Master" a text message:

 

_Hey, did you get the restaurant right? Did I get the times wrong? – Nerd Magic_

 

He got no reply. Quentin swallowed, trying to avoid his negative thoughts. "Drink Master" wouldn't stand him up, right? He wouldn't leave Quentin stranded at a table, embarrassed? Quentin ordered a meal, avoiding Alice's pitiful stares.

 

After an hour, Quentin asked Alice for the check. He stared at the empty seat in front of him, blinking. Maybe "Drink Master" forgot, or maybe they actually live in different states. Maybe "Drink Master" is also sitting at a table, alone, wondering why Quentin hadn't arrived. Quentin paid for his meal, walking away from the table. He walked past the host stand, pausing.

 

"Hey, uh, did a guy come in here for a blind date? Said the table was for ‘Nerd Magic' or something close to that?"

 

The girl looked at him with pity, "Yeah. When he said he was here for a blind date, he saw you and then walked out."

 

Quentin felt the air knocked out of him. Stumbling backward, Quentin leaned against the wall. Tears filled his eyes, and he nodded at the host, "Okay."

 

"I'm sorry, if I had known, I would have told you sooner."

 

Quentin nodded, leaving the restaurant. Quentin, clumsily, grabbed his phone, texting Eliot.

 

_Is the room still off limits? – Quentin_

 

Within seconds, Eliot responded.

 

_Nah, didn't get any tonight – Eliot_

 

Quentin nodded, shoving his phone in his pocket. He left the restaurant, making his way back to the dorm, feeling defeated.

 

. . .

 

When Quentin got back, Eliot was on his phone. Quentin walked to his bed, falling face first on his bed, groaning. Eliot glanced at Quentin, biting his lip, "That bad?"

 

 "According to the host, saw one glance of me and then left. Never even said anything to me. Sat there for a fucking hour waiting for him."

 

Quentin's eyes filled with tears, and he quickly blinked them away. Quentin walked to his dresser, changing his clothes and kicking his shoes off. After changing into a t-shirt and boxers, Quentin got into his bed. Eliot stared at Quentin, looking distressed. Quentin knew the look: pity. He had seen it three times tonight, and he was tired of being pitied.

 

"Maybe he got scared," Eliot said, offering comfort.

 

"Or maybe he was repulsed by me," Quentin muttered, covering himself in his blankets. Quentin turned his back to Eliot, looking at his phone. Quentin sent a message to "Drink Master" for one last time.

 

_You are a selfish prick. If you didn't like what you saw, tell me. Don't make me think someone might actually want me for once. I told you stuff I've only told my best friend. You could have fucking told me that you left instead of making me sit there like an idiot. Fuck you. I wish I could fucking hate you. – Nerd Magic_

 

Quentin ignored Eliot's phone chiming and Eliot's quiet gasp. Quentin covered his ears with his second pillow, draining out the noise in the room, trying to focus on something other than his broken heart.

 

. . .

 

Ever since "Drink Master" stood Quentin up, Eliot became nicer to him. Quentin was unsure if it was out of pity, but he was glad that Eliot no longer flipped the lights on at four in the morning after a late-night party. However, Quentin found it hard to get out of bed. He tried replaying every man that walked into the restaurant while he waited. He needed to know who the man was, and he needed to know why "Drink Master" left. However, there had been no replies since. His attendance in classes was dropping, luckily, he had several free absences, and some classes never took attendance. Quentin stayed in bed, staring at the wall.

 

Quentin noticed a few new things about Eliot. Eliot put Quentin's anti-depressants on the table next to Quentin's bed, giving Quentin easier access to them (although, it never occurred to Quentin about how Eliot knew he was on anti-depressants since Quentin kept it to himself). Quentin noticed fruits or different types of food on the table as well. After a week of Quentin staying in bed, Eliot forced Quentin out of bed.

 

"Why are you being so nice," Quentin muttered.

 

"I know a depression episode when I see one, so I'm not going to let you sink more in them. Plus, I called Julia, and she can't make it here. But you are going to shower, and I'm taking you out to dinner because I haven't seen you eat proper food in a week."

 

"You don't have to do this."

 

"I want to."

 

. . .

 

Quentin still wondered how "Drink Master" was doing. Even though his rejection stung, Quentin needed to know that he was okay. They had both spoken about their struggles with mental illnesses. Quentin stared at his phone, biting his lip.

 

_Hey, I just want to make sure you are okay. You don't have to explain, but I want to know you are alive. But update on my roommate: he's not so bad right now. Idk what changed his mind but now he's not as much as an ass –Nerd Magic_

 

Quentin waited, seeing "Drink Master" read and began typing. Quentin held his breath as he watched the dots continued.

 

_I'm okay. That's good about your roommate. By the way, I'm sorry. I saw you and freaked because I actually know you and thought you wouldn't want to be with me –Drink Master_

 

Quentin furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion. "Drink Master" was scared over meeting him? Who was he? How did Quentin know him?

 

_That wouldn't be the case –Nerd Magic_

 

_You would. I know you would. –Drink Master_

 

_You didn't have to leave me to wait. Coulda just texted me –Nerd Magic_

 

_I know, it was a dick move. Shouldn't have left you there for an hour –Drink Master_

 

Quentin froze, he never told "Drink Master" how long he sat at the table. Quentin played back the conversations he had within the last few weeks. He only told one person: Eliot.

 

_Eliot? –Nerd Magic_

_Fuck. –Drink Master_

 

Quentin threw his phone on the bed, bringing his knees to his chest. Quentin pressed his lips against his kneecap, trying to calm his nerves. "Drink Master" was Eliot. His roommate was his (ex) online boyfriend. His (ex) online boyfriend was the guy who he complained and vented about. Quentin's phone chimed again, and Quentin grabbed it.

 

_Let me explain. I'll be home in ten minutes, and then I will explain everything –Eliot_

 

Quentin ran a hand through his hair, anxiously. Was it all a joke to Eliot? Quentin sat in his thoughts, hands shaking. When the door opened, Quentin whipped his head to Eliot.

 

"Let me explain," Eliot said, closing the door, "I promise that I didn't know it was you when we first started messaging each other," Eliot walked over to Quentin, sitting on the edge of Quentin's bed, "but when I saw you sitting there, I freaked. You, according to our messages, hated me."

 

Quentin sat, quietly, "You seemed to hate me too."

 

Eliot laughed, bitterly, "Yeah, it looked that way, huh?"

 

"I stopped disliking you a while ago," Quentin shrugged, "You annoyed me a shit ton, but I stopped disliking you."

 

"Was that after I did a 180 on my behaviors in the dorm," Eliot teased.

 

"Maybe," Quentin chuckled, "Is that why you become concerned about my mental health?"

 

"I felt guilty. Thought I needed to make up for hurting you without you knowing I was making up for it. How'd you figure out it was me?"

 

"I didn't tell anyone I was sitting at the table for an hour other than you."

 

"Well, fuck," Eliot laughed, looking at Quentin, "I am sorry though. I thought you would hate me or something. Would you be okay with us starting again? This time in person. If you don't, I get it. I hurt you a lot."

 

"Don't do it again," Quentin said.

 

"Again?" Eliot asked, "Are you implying we can give this a shot?"

 

"If you'd have me."

 

Eliot grinned, "Fuck yeah."

 

Quentin smiled, "Can I kiss you?"

 

"Please do."

 

Quentin grinned, tugging Eliot's tie, pulling him close to Quentin. Quentin kissed Eliot, and Eliot, quickly, kissed Quentin back. As the kiss intensified, Quentin lay on his bed with Eliot hovering over him. Quentin pulled away, cupping Eliot's cheeks, smiling at him. Eliot smiled back, brushing his nose against Quentin's palm.

 

"You do actually like me though, right? This isn't you feeling sorry for me?" Quentin asked, looking Eliot in the eyes.

 

Eliot's gaze softened, "Yeah, this is me liking you. No pity, no games. This is real."

 

. . .

 

Quentin and Eliot were crammed together in the small dorm bed. With Eliot on his back, Quentin curled around Eliot's side. Eliot looked at Quentin as Quentin slept, occasionally shivering at the heat of Quentin's breath on his skin. When Eliot told Margo, they were sharing a bed, Margo laughed. Eliot's bed was barely enough room for him, and he was sharing it with another man. However, Margo quickly looked up ways to make it work, and both Quentin and Eliot were thankful for her help.

 

"El," Quentin mumbled, sleepily, "what time is it?"

 

"It's Saturday, Q. You don't have to get up for class. Go back to sleep."

 

"Why are you awake then?"

 

Eliot laughed, "You were up much later than I was working on that assignment you have. I was surprised to find you in my bed this morning."

 

Quentin yawned, "After I finished, I was going to sleep in my own bed, but I got cold."

 

"You could have easily turned up the heat or put a sweater on, baby."

 

"But you're so warm," Quentin said, snuggling further into Eliot's side. Quentin wrapped his arms around Eliot's stomach, pressing a kiss against Eliot's collarbone, smirking when Eliot shivered, "I also might have wanted morning sex."

 

"God," Eliot laughed, "Your sex drive has increased by so much since we fucked for the first time."

 

Quentin laughed, "Shut up, it was always the same drive. I just didn't know how to get any because I've barely made any friends. And you are living with me, so I don't have to plan with someone when I want to have sex."

 

"Sure," Eliot teased, "but first we need to brush our teeth because I have some awful morning breath right now."

 

"But that's all the way down the hall," Quentin whined, "We should both have to get up and walk down the hall. Then brush our teeth, then walk all the way back down. Can't I just get you those mouthwash tablets you insisted I buy?"

 

Laughing, Eliot poked Quentin's side, "That's disgusting."

 

Quentin huffed, "Fine," he said, untangling himself from Eliot. Immediately, Eliot felt colder in the room, missing Quentin next to him. Eliot got out of bed, grabbing their toothbrushes as Quentin grabbed their tubes of toothpaste.

 

When they got back inside the dorm, Eliot threw the brushes and pastes on a nearby test, and he pushed Quentin against the door, "Now, you said something about morning sex?"

 

Quentin grinned, "Something like that."

 

Eliot lifted Quentin's chin, kissing him, and Quentin wrapped his arms around Eliot's neck. Eventually, they lead themselves to a bed, falling onto the mattress.

 

. . .

 

The first time they had troubles, it was because Eliot came home late from a party. In most cases, it didn't bother Quentin. However, Quentin's medication got knocked in the trash bin, unknowingly, while Quentin and Eliot had sex on his desk. He accidentally left his pills on the desk after dinner, and by the time he realized, Eliot had taken out the trash.

 

Immediately, Quentin ordered a refill. He had to wait a weekend and two days until it delivered—since he used his pharmacy back home still. He never told Eliot, not wanting to worry him. He knew he should have, but Eliot was stressed about his upcoming exam. He didn't need more to worry about when everything would be fine in the next couple of days.

 

Quentin hadn't expected Eliot to go out to party, though. As the night got later, Quentin sat, leg constantly tapping, waiting for Eliot to walk in the room. After a day of being off his medication, he already felt off and imbalanced.

 

_He's probably off with some guy better than you, his mind screamed at him, He realizes what a pathetic piece of shit you are._

 

When Eliot came home, Quentin was sitting on his bed, crossed legged. After sitting alone for five hours, his mind began to get the best of him, "Have fun?"

 

"Yeah?" Eliot said, confused, "Why are you still up? You have your early class tomorrow, and it's nearly four in the morning."

 

"You couldn't have told me that you were going out?" Quentin asked.

 

"Q, you don't normally care when I'm out late. I'm not drunk or high, but Margo wanted to spend time with me."

 

"Sure, it was Margo you were spending time with," Quentin spat.

 

_He doesn't want you. When he saw you were "Nerd Magic" he was turned off. He's only with you because he pities you._

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"It means, I highly doubt you were just with Margo."

 

"Quentin," Eliot said, walking towards him, "where is all this coming from. You know I am committed to you. I'm with you."

 

_He hasn't even said he loves you. How many times have you told him? And how many times has he said it back?_

 

"Really? Because you don't seem to be."

 

"What do you mean by that?" Eliot asked, stepping back from Quentin.

 

"Why haven't you said you love me? I've said it so many times, but you never say it back!"

 

_He doesn't love you. Look at his face, he looks like he's been caught red-handed._

 

"Unless you don't love me, and you've just pitied me this whole time."

 

Eliot sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Did you take your medication today?"

 

Quentin looked down, picking at the skin around his fingers. He realized Eliot never answered his question, and he tried to focus his attention elsewhere. Quentin had the habit of picking the skin around his nails when he was nervous. Most of the time, his medication prevented it, but sometimes everything became too much.

 

"Where is it?"

 

"In the dumpster somewhere," Quentin mumbled, shouldering falling.

 

"You threw it out?"

 

Quentin shook his head, "Yesterday when we fucked on my desk, it fell into the trash bin."

 

"Baby," Eliot said, becoming level with Quentin, "why didn't you say something?"

 

"It wasn't that big of a deal, I thought. Plus, you've been stressed."

 

"You long have you been in your thoughts?"

 

"Five hours."

 

"Shit," Eliot muttered, "I want you to let me know next time, okay? I wouldn't have left you alone for all that time if I knew your depression monster might make a reoccurrence."

 

Quentin nodded, "Okay. I'm sorry I got snippy."

 

"We are going to talk about what you've brought up once you have the medication in your system."

 

"Okay, can you hold me?"

 

Eliot nodded, "Let me change first."

 

Within minutes, Eliot was pulling Quentin to the end of the bed, wrapping his arms around Quentin, "Please, just talk to me next time. I won't be upset. If anything, we shouldn't have been fucking on your desk in the first place."

 

Quentin laughed, "It was my idea."

 

"Next time then, let's make sure there's aren't any valuables on the desks then."

 

Quentin nodded, curling closer to Eliot, running his fingers through the silky material. Soon, he fell asleep, listening to Eliot's steady heartbeat.

 

After a week, Quentin finally felt back on track, and he knew he needed to talk about what was said that night. Quentin waited in their room for Eliot to get back from class. When Eliot walked in, Quentin took a deep breath.

 

"El, can we talk about what happened last week?"

 

Eliot nodded, kicking his shoes off. He walked to Quentin's bed, sitting on the edge of it, "Can I go first?"

 

Quentin nodded, "Yeah."

 

Eliot, taking a deep breath, mustered the courage to begin, "I've never been in love before," he started, cringing at how it sounded, "and I freak out when I get close to people. I keep these walls up because I get scared and don't want to get hurt. But…I'm hurting the people I love and care about when I do it. I don't even say those words to Margo, and she's Margo. Instead, I like to make these gestures to people to let them know, but I think that got lost in translation for you."

 

"El, I know, okay? I know it's scary, and I don't want to push you to say stuff like that to me."

 

"But still. You should know. Because I do," Eliot took a deep breath, "I love you, Quentin Coldwater."

 

Quentin smiled, kissing Eliot, gently, and then pressed his forehead against Eliot's, "I love you too."

 


	2. Sophomore Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the second year begins, Eliot and Quentin move into an apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Quentin experiences more mental illness episodes than the last one. If you, or a loved one, experience mental illnesses of any kind, please, don't be afraid to speak up. A majority of the reason this chapter has so much more is that this is my way of venting. The finale has triggered me to fall into a depression episode, and I am, at the moment, helping myself by writing and doing other creative tasks. If you are suffering or experiencing anything like this, you are not alone.

One of the hardest parts of summer vacation was the distance between Eliot and Quentin. After the first semester, Quentin and Eliot agreed to rent an apartment together. Quentin and Eliot would have a room to themselves, and Margo would stay in the second room. The second semester of classes was great. Eliot and Quentin had their fights, and sometimes Eliot stormed out of the room, leaving for the night. There were times where Quentin went to Alice’s dorm to calm down (though, the first time, Eliot and Quentin fought over Quentin going to Alice’s dorm because Eliot was sure Quentin would leave him for Alice).

 

Eliot stayed at the apartment over the summer with Margo. Both Margo and Eliot hated their home lives. Quentin went back home to see Julia and his dad. Julia and Quentin talked for hours about Eliot and Julia’s new boyfriend and girlfriend, Kady and Penny.

 

Quentin, walking around his room, left Eliot on the table as they FaceTimed. Eliot was reminding him of all the things they needed for the apartment, making sure Quentin wouldn’t forget anything.

 

“I have my shirts, my pants, my shoes, socks, underwear, face wash, shampoo, conditioner, my medications—”

 

“Medications? As in plural?”

 

Quentin glanced at the screen, putting the pill bottles in his bag, “I’m on a sleeping pill.”

 

“Baby,” Eliot said, softly, “why didn’t you tell me.”

 

“It’s not that big of a deal. I just haven’t been able to sleep since my dad died.”

 

Eliot smiled, sadly at Quentin. Eliot and Quentin barely saw each other over the summer, but the one time they did, it was because Quentin’s father died. At first, Eliot had no idea. Quentin cut himself off from the world, locking himself in his bedroom. It wasn’t until Julia called Eliot, worried about Quentin’s wellbeing.

 

Eliot stayed at the house for two weeks, helping Quentin get back in the motions. Margo told him he could stay longer, but Quentin insisted Eliot to go back home to Margo and his job. Eliot didn’t want to leave, concerned about Quentin’s wellbeing, but Quentin convinced Eliot to leave. That was a month ago.

 

“Well, when we are living together, let me know when you are having a sleepless night. I don’t care if I’m asleep; let me help you, okay?”

 

“We’ll see. It’s another medicine I can’t mix alcohol with.”

 

“Ugh, we need to get you medicine that allows you to drink. I know you hate to be the designated driver, and you don’t want to deal with my horny drunk ass sometimes.”

 

Quentin laughed, “You aren’t horny when drunk. You are more of a clumsy, cuddly drunk.”

 

“Am not.”

 

“You couldn’t walk in our dorm without turning the light on. It’s okay; we all have our weaknesses.”

 

“I’d love to see who you are drunk. Maybe one day I will.”

 

“I’ll ask once I’m twenty-one. I can’t ask my doctor if I can drink if I’m underage.”

 

“But in all seriousness, I can’t wait to see you,” Eliot smiled, “I miss you so fucking much.”

 

Quentin looked at his phone, smiling, “I miss you too.”

 

“Five hours!” Eliot grinned, “I decorated our room too. I have a surprise for you too.”

 

“Please don’t tell me it’s a sex thing.”

 

Eliot laughed, “No, Q, it’s not. Although, I did make sure you buy you a bigger desk. It’s much longer than our dorm desks, and I got this shower thingy I saw on Amazon. I think it’s supposed to help give room for when shower sex is happening? I remembered you complaining about having to stand there awkwardly, so I thought that this might help? If not, we can give it to Bambi. But the kitchen and couch are off limits, Bambi’s rule.”

 

Quentin chuckled, “You want to try that again? The desk thing?”

 

“Fuck yes. We just make sure no one has their medication on it.”

 

“Okay, fine. We can try it again. I’m leaving in like ten minutes, but do you want to stay on the phone with me as I drive?”

 

“I don’t want to distract you, but I love you, and I will see you soon!”

 

“I love you too.”

 

. . .

 

Quentin walked into the apartment room, holding several bags in his hand. As soon as he stepped inside, Eliot collided into him, “Quentin!” Eliot grinned, grabbing Quentin’s bags, “Put them in the living room for right now. I need to show you the surprise.”

 

Quentin chuckled, placing the bags down, “Okay, lead the way.”

 

“First, I’m covering your eyes,” Eliot said, putting his hands over Quentin’s eyes. Eliot leads them to their bedroom, making sure Quentin didn’t step or stumble. When they got inside the room, Eliot uncovered Quentin’s eyes, directing him towards the bookshelf.

 

Quentin tilted his head, walking over to it, “El, are these the first edition Fillory books?”

 

“Uh…yeah,” Eliot said, nervously, “They are. Julia and Margo and Alice and Nick and your dad all chipped in.”

 

“My dad?”

 

Eliot nodded, “Before he died, he contacted me because he heard about my surprise from Julia. I’ve been working on it all summer. He offered me some money, and at first, I refused because he’s your dad and he’s sick. But then he said he wanted it to be one of the last gifts he gave you. I couldn’t say no to that.”

 

Quentin smiled, faintly, seeing a note on the top of the book. He picked it up, reading it silently.

 

_Curly Q,_

_If Eliot put this note in the book, it’s because cancer won and I wasn’t able to see your reaction in person. If there is an afterlife, I'm seeing it there. I wish that I could have been there when Eliot revealed the bookshelf to you. You are so strong, and I’m so glad you found someone like Eliot to love and cherish you. You two have only been together nine months, but it looks like you two have spent a lifetime together. I love you, and I hope that you are finding closure with my death. I never wanted to leave you at such a young age, but sometimes life sucks. I hope you grow up to do great and amazing things. Stay strong, Curly Q._

_~Dad_

 

Quentin covered his mouth, stifling a sob. Eliot hugged him from behind, resting his chin on Quentin’s shoulder, “I’m sorry if it’s upset you.”

 

“No, I’m thankful for it,” Quentin said, turning his head to kiss Eliot’s cheek, “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

Quentin smiled, looking at the shelf. He stepped away from Eliot, looking closure at the wood, “El, is that…”

 

“The map you and Julia drew as kids? Yeah. That was her idea. She misses you like crazy, so she made a copy of the map, and she said I should get it printed on the bookshelf. That way you have a part of her even when you guys are separated.”

 

“Fuck, El, when did you get this romantic,” Quentin joked.

 

“This is also a birthday present too. I felt bad; I couldn’t make it down for your birthday.”

 

“I love it.”

 

“You do?”

 

Quentin nodded, “Of course, I do.”

 

Quentin turned to Eliot, pulling him down for a kiss. Eliot hummed, kissing Quentin back, wrapping his arms around Quentin’s waist. When they pulled away, Quentin smiled, bumping their noses, “We should go get my other stuff though.”

 

“Okay, you go bring your bags in here. I’ll go get some more from your car.”

 

Quentin pecked Eliot’s lips before walking away to the door. Quentin grabbed his bags from the living room as Eliot walked out of the apartment. Quentin set them on the bedroom floor, unpacking a few items. He put his medication on the dresser next to his side of the bed, and he walked to the bathroom to put his bathing and oral products in their designated area. Then, he walked to another bag, taking his books out of them. He began placing the books on the bookshelf, tracing the print on the wood.

 

“I’m so glad we get a king bed though,” Eliot said, walking in the room, “because I love you, but those twins were so crowded.”

 

Quentin laughed, taking a few things from Eliot’s arms, “We can have our side of the bed instead of being forced so cram ourselves next to each other. Although, I do like being curled around your side.”

 

“But at least we get the choice now,” Eliot grinned, “Plus, the walls are thicker than the dorm walls,” Eliot leaned down, whispering to Quentin, “so you don’t have to worry about being as quiet like before. But gagging you was fun when we did it.”

 

“El,” Quentin whined, “we need to focus on unpacking.”

 

“Fine,” Eliot huffed, “I’ll go get the rest of the bags, you organize.”

 

Quentin hummed, taking out the photographs in his bag. Quentin looked at them, smiling. Sitting on the floor, Quentin looked at the photo frame with multiple photos of him and Eliot. They were all taken a month into their relationship when they had their first date off campus.

 

. . .

 

_Quentin and Eliot were walking along downtown. Their hands swayed as they walked. They planned on going to lunch and then going to a movie._

_“We should get a photo,” Quentin said, “this is our first date off campus.”_

_“Ugh, don’t remind me. We’ve been dating for a month, and we have yet to go on an actual date.”_

_“I love our dorm dates,” Quentin said, pecking Eliot’s lips._

_“I do too, but it’s nice to get out and try someplace new.”_

_“So, a photo?” Quentin asked, smiling._

_“Fine, let’s find someone to take it.”_

_Quentin and Eliot asked a girl to take their photo. Eliot stood behind Quentin, wrapping his arms around Quentin. Quentin leaned back into the touch, looking at Eliot briefly. Quentin hadn’t told Eliot he loved him, but he knew he was in love with Eliot. Quentin looked back at the girl, who was smiling at them._

_“Okay, now pose for the picture,” she said, cheerfully._

_Quentin smiled, and Eliot, unexpectedly, kissed Quentin’s cheek. Quentin laughed at the sudden feeling, before turning his head to kiss Eliot’s lips. They pulled apart, bumping foreheads and staring at each other._

_“Y’all are cute,” the girl said, handing them the phone._

_“Thanks,” Quentin said, blushing._

_Eliot laughed, taking the phone. As she walked away, they went through the photos. It was odd to Quentin, seeing the pictures of him looking at Eliot. He seemed so carefree and open to love._

_“I like this one,” Eliot said, showing Quentin the photo of Eliot kissing Quentin’s cheek and Quentin laughing, “Send it to me so I can make it my lock screen.”_

_Quentin’s heart fluttered at the request. Eliot wanted to make a photo of them his lock screen, “I’ll send you all of them. You can do your editing thing, and we can post them on Instagram.”_

_“Can I make them black and white?”_

_“Sure.”_

. . .

 

“I’m pretty sure that was the moment I realized I loved you,” Eliot said, putting Quentin’s bags down, “I remember scrolling through the photos that night and seeing how you looked at me and how I looked at you.”

 

Quentin smiled, “The one where our foreheads are touching is my favorite.”

 

“What other photos do you have?”

 

“One of me and Julia, a photo of you, Margo, and I, a photo with my dad, a photo with Alice, and you, Margo, and I.”

 

“You showed him the bookshelf?” Margo asked, walking into the room, “I am jealous of it.”

 

Quentin laughed, “You helped with it?”

 

Margo nodded, “Julia and I were the ones who searched for the books. Eliot wouldn’t know a thing about the series since he won’t read them,” Margo said, affectionately, “But they are first editions of the series—if you didn’t realize by now. They were a bitch to find, but Julia and I found them.”

 

“Thank you, Mar.”

 

Margo sat next to Quentin, smiling, “You’re my super nerd who brings out my secret nerd. Only a few have lived to tell the tale of that,” Margo teased.

 

Quentin laughed, “How’s Fen and Josh?”

 

“Great! But Eliot and I both realized that the walls are really thick between your cybersex and my times with them, you won’t be hearing us.”

 

“That’s good, I guess?” Quentin said.

 

“We know that you and Eliot are going to be all over each other the next couple days. You haven’t been together in like a month, right?”

 

“We have some self-control.”

 

Margo grinned, ruffing Quentin’s hair as she stood up, “I’m leaving the apartment now, don’t be too loud!”

 

Margo kissed Eliot’s cheek, leaving the room and shutting their door. Eliot laughed, playing with Quentin’s hair, “Do you want to focus on unpacking right now, or do you want me to suck your dick?”

 

Quentin groaned, pulling Eliot into a deep kiss. Eliot grinned, kissing Quentin back, pulling Quentin into his lap. Quentin straddled Eliot, cupping Eliot’s cheeks as everything became frantic and desperate.

 

 . . .

 

After classes began, Quentin’s insomnia increased drastically when school started. Sometimes he woke Eliot up, but when it was a nightly thing, he didn’t want to be a bother. He spent most his time in the kitchen, studying or doing laundry.

 

However, tonight was different. Quentin stood in the kitchen, making himself a bowl of cereal. Unfortunately for him, Quentin’s sock slipped on the ground. Quentin tumbled to the floor, loudly, and the bowl shattered.

 

Within seconds, Margo and Eliot were both out of their bed and running into the kitchen. Margo was holding a bat—no one asked why Margo had a bat in her room—and Eliot was staring at Quentin.

 

“What the fuck?” Margo said, looking at Quentin.

 

Quentin avoided their gaze, sitting in the pool of milk, “I couldn’t sleep, so I made myself cereal. But I guess the lack of sleep got to me because my sock slipped from under me and I fell.”

 

Eliot knelt in front of Quentin, “How long?”

 

Quentin avoided Eliot’s eyes, feeling ashamed, “Since the second week of classes.”

 

“Margo, can you give us a minute?” Eliot asked. Margo left, glancing at the two of them before she left, “I thought we agreed you’d come to me; have you been taking your medication?”

 

“I don’t like how it makes me feel,” Quentin said, “I feel so drained and tired and like a zombie.”

 

“Okay, I hear you,” Eliot said, rubbing Quentin’s arms, “Why don’t we start with the process for sleep. Things we should do before we go to bed.”

 

“We?”

 

“We are in this together. Now, let’s clean this up and then take a bath, okay?”

 

“But it’s like four in the morning. You have a nine am class.”

 

“The professor doesn’t take attendance. How many of yours take attendance?”

 

“None tomorrow,” Quentin muttered.

 

“We are skipping tomorrow. We are going to do some research together about ways we can help you, okay?”

 

Quentin nodded, “Okay.”

 

“Go start the bath; I’ll clean this up.”

 

“It’s my mess.”

 

“But you cleaning it up as you are dripping milk won’t help. I got this. Do you want bubbles in it?”

 

“Do you?”

 

“This is about what you want, if you want them, go get those lavender scented ones from Margo.”

 

Quentin nodded, standing up with Eliot’s help, “Thank you, El.”

 

“No need to thank me. I’m always here to help you.”

 

Quentin nodded, walking towards Margo’s room. Gently, he knocked on the door, “Mar?”

 

Margo opened the door within seconds, looking at him, “Are you okay?”

 

Quentin shrugged, “I’ve been better. But can I have the lavender bath stuff?”

 

“Taking a bath?”

 

Quentin nodded, “El wants me to. He’s taking it with me.”

 

“Okay, hun. Let me get it for you,” Margo left him, standing in the doorway, and returned with the bottle of bath soap, “Don’t scare us like that again, okay? If you need help, come to one of us. Eliot might be my soulmate, but if you need to say something to me, I’ll keep it a secret if you need me to.”

 

Quentin nodded, “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

“Also, sometimes I’m up late watching television shows, so knock on the door, and if I answer, you can come in. We can watch _Game of Thrones_ or something.”

 

Quentin smiled, “Love you, Mar.”

 

“Love you too, now get that bath ready.”

 

Quentin nodded, walking to his bathroom. He started the water, waiting for it to warm before he began to the bath. Quentin sat on the toilet, waiting. Once the water and bubbles were at a reasonable height, Quentin turned off the water and began stripping from his clothes. He slipped in the tub, trying the adjust to the heat of the water. Eventually, Eliot came in and sat on the side of the bath.

 

“Still want me in there?”

 

Quentin nodded, “Please?”

 

Eliot smiled, stripping from his pajamas and folding them neatly on the bathroom counter. He motioned Quentin to move forward, and he slipped in behind Quentin. Quentin leaned back, against Eliot’s chest, holding Eliot’s hand.

 

“What’s been on your mind?”

 

“I’ve just been stressed. I don’t deal with stress all that great; most of the times I just shut down.”

 

Eliot nodded, kissing Quentin’s shoulder, “If there’s any way I can help, please let me know. Do you want to make an appointment with that therapist you saw for a bit last semester?”

 

“Maybe. It might be good for me.”

 

“Do what is best for you.”

 

Quentin closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax, “I’m sorry for not saying anything.”

 

“I know it’s hard for you to open up about your struggles. I’m not going to force it out of you.”

 

Quentin nodded, “Okay. I will try and be more comfortable talking about this stuff. It’s just hard.”

 

After fifteen minutes, Eliot and Quentin got out of the bath, and they changed in their pajamas again, “Do you want to get in the bed?” Eliot asked,

 

Quentin nodded, “Yeah, can we cuddle?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Quentin and Eliot got into the bed, and Eliot opened his arms for Quentin. Quentin wrapped his arms around Eliot, lying his head on Eliot’s chest. Quentin played with Eliot’s shirt buttons, sighing, “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

Eliot ran his hands through Quentin’s hair, soothingly. They stayed like that for a while, and eventually, Quentin fell asleep. Eliot looked down at Quentin’s sleeping form, sighing, “Oh, Q, I wish I could take all your pain away,” Eliot kissed Quentin’s head, closing his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep as well.

 

. . .

 

Quentin woke up to the smell of bacon. He sat, up, yawning, and he smiled thinking about the events Eliot and him planned. It was their first anniversary, and both of them had big plans for each other. Quentin, knowing about Eliot’s watch being shattered over the summer break, got Eliot a watch. Initially, it was his dad’s. When Julia and Quentin were going through Ted’s things, they came across the watch. After a long conversation with Julia, Quentin took it to a shop to have it cleaned, updated, and engraved.

 

“Happy anniversary!” Eliot said, pushing open their bedroom door. Eliot was holding a tray with different foods on it, grinning. On the tray, strawberries and bananas were cut in two bowls, and there was a plate of bacon with eggs. From what Quentin could tell, there were also pancakes on the tray, “I made us breakfast, and we can eat it in bed. Then, we could have some fun with the whipped cream or strawberries,” Eliot smirked.

 

“You didn’t have to,” Quentin said, choosing to ignore Eliot’s sexual implication.

 

“Oh, but I did,” he smiled, setting the tray in Quentin’s lap. Eliot climbed besides Quentin, taking a piece of bacon, eating it, “How’d you sleep?”

 

“Good. The processes are helping a lot,” Quentin smiled.

 

Eliot kissed Quentin’s cheek, “I’m glad. Now, let’s eat because I’m starving.”

 

“You sure you want to eat pancakes in bed? With the syrup and everything?”

 

Eliot smirked, dipping his finger in the small bowl of whipped cream, then put the finger in Quentin’s mouth. Quentin’s eyes widen, slowly licking the cream off Eliot’s finger, “Just don’t get it on the sheets,” Eliot groaned, “Anywhere else can be cleaned up.”

 

Quentin cleared his throat, “Why are you so horny.”

 

“Because you have your sleep schedule to keep so, you can sleep properly, and I have had all the damn night shifts the past three weeks.”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Quentin groaned, “I feel this is summer break all over again.”

 

Eliot laughed, “Now, let’s eat, so we have the energy for everything we’ve missed the past three weeks.”

 

Quentin nodded, grinning, “Happy anniversary.”

 

. . .

 

Quentin stood in the bedroom, struggling to tie his tie. Usually, Quentin didn’t have this problem, but his nerves were getting the best of him. Quentin groaned frustrated, kicking his desk, which knocked over his lamp.

 

“Need help with that?” Margo asked, knocking on the door. Startled, Quentin stumbled backward, “Don’t hurt yourself, Q,” she laughed.

 

“Yeah, please do. I’m so fucking nervous.”

 

Margo chuckled, walking over to him, “Why? It’s not like you are proposing. You are giving him that amazing watch, which I know he will love.”

 

“Yeah, but what if he doesn’t? What if he thinks it tacky? Or stupid? Or lame? Or stereotypical?”

 

“Q,” Margo said, making him look at her, “stop spiraling. He’s going to love it because it came from you. You put your heart into that gift.”

 

Quentin nodded, “You’re sure?”

 

Margo nodded, “Baby, I’m positive.”

 

Margo finished tying Quentin tie, and Quentin looking in the mirror, “Where is he anyway?”

 

“He’s getting ready in my room, but sent me in here when we heard your lamp fall. He guessed you were freaking out over something and asked me to check on you. Didn’t think a stubborn tie was the issue, though,” Margo teased.

 

“Thanks, is he ready?”

 

“Almost, he is fixing his hair.”

 

Quentin rolled his eyes, “Okay, tell him I’m going to the car.”

 

Quentin waited in the car, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel to Taylor Swift’s new song. He hummed along, insecure about his singing voice, bopping his head to the beat of the song. He didn’t notice Eliot opening the car door and getting in the passenger’s seat.

 

“Babe, really?” Eliot teased, “I knew our anniversary would be over-shined by Taylor Swift.”

 

Quentin blushed, leaning over to kiss Eliot, “You’re still my priority.”

 

“You bet I am.”

 

Quentin grinned, backing out of their parking spot and driving to the restaurant. Both of them sat in silence in the car, holding each other’s hands. Once they got to the restaurant, they were led to their seats. Quentin, carrying the box in his jacket pocket, bounced with anxieties. After the waitress took their drink orders, Quentin cleared his throat, “I got you something.”

 

Eliot looked up from his menu, eying Quentin, “I got you something too. Do you want to wait to open them until after we eat?”

 

Quentin shook his head, “I’m a little nervous about it and feel if we wait I won’t eat a lot of food, or I’ll get sick.”

 

Eliot chuckled, “Fine, we don’t want that.”

 

Quentin nodded, taking the box out of his pocket. He slid it over to Eliot, watching him. Eliot took the box, unwrapping it slowly. Before he opened it, Eliot looked at Quentin, “Don’t worry about me like it or not. I’m going to no matter what.”

 

Quentin licked his lips, nodding. Eliot opened the box, and he gasped quietly. Eliot took the watch out of its box, looking at it. Unlike the original, which had a black band and a silver clock, the watch had a few diamonds circling the cover. Eliot turned it over, reading the engravement: _I love you. Every second, minute, and hour; you are my everything._

 

“It was my dad’s,” Eliot’s eyes shot towards him, “Jules and I found it while we were cleaning up his stuff over the summer. You had recently said you broke yours but knew you wouldn’t be able to afford a new one. I don’t wear a watch, so it was useless to me. I’m an only child, and so was my dad. I wanted to give it to you,” Eliot glanced at the waitress walking over to them with their drinks. He shook his head, giving her the notice to come after a minute, “I took it to a shop and had it cleaned up along with updated a bit—hence the diamonds—and I had it engraved. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you and I wanted you to have it.”

 

“Quentin,” Eliot said, eyes filling with tears, “I love you. You didn’t have to do this.”

 

Quentin smiled, taking Eliot’s free hand, “I wanted to. The past year has been amazing. I never thought I could be in a relationship for this long and be happy. You make me happy.”

 

Eliot let go of Quentin’s hand, wiping his eyes, “Okay, my turn.”

 

Eliot put the watch back in the box, taking out his present for Quentin. The waitress came back to the table, giving their drinks. Eliot and Quentin paused their gift exchange to order their meals. After the waitress left, Eliot handed Quentin the small box. Quentin took it, opening the box. Inside, there was a gold ring with engraving throughout the design, “El—”

 

“I’m not proposing. I saw you eying this ring like a month or so ago at that pawn shop when we were walking downtown together. There was one similar to it, and I bought myself one. I just…I want us to make it to the end, you know? And this, I guess, is a promise ring? Because I wanna marry you, but I think we need to work on school.”

 

“El, I love it, thank you,” Quentin pecked Eliot’s lips, gently, and he slipped the ring on his ring finger, “Give me two years, and then we can get married.”

 

Eliot nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”

 

. . .

 

When they got back into their apartment, Quentin began making his nightly tea. Quentin’s nightly schedule consisted of a series of events. At ten, Quentin made himself tea for the night. After drinking his tea, which generally lasted thirty minutes, he would wash his face and brush his teeth, and change into his night clothes—mostly boxers and a t-shirt. Then, Quentin did several calming yoga poses. Then, at eleven, he put his phone in the drawer next to his bed. The time between 11:30 and 12:30 Quentin either read a novel while cuddled in bed or had sex with Eliot. After that, Quentin turned the light off (if it already wasn’t off) and began the process of falling asleep. When Eliot was home, he would run his hands through Quentin’s hair, calming him. On nights Eliot was out or at work, Quentin counted backward in his head. He started at one hundred and counted until he fell asleep.

 

Ever since his night in the kitchen, Quentin stuck with the system, and it worked for him. He was able to get eight hours of sleep, and he felt restful in the morning. Some nights were rough, those mostly happened when Quentin missed a step, or Eliot was out later than expected. But it still worked.

 

“We can make the time system be different tonight,” Quentin said, looking at Eliot.

 

Eliot frowned, walking over to Quentin. He wrapped his arms around Quentin’s waist, resting his head on Quentin’s shoulder, “Nah.”

 

“Yeah, but today’s a special night.”

 

“Q, don’t worry about it,” Eliot kissed the side of Quentin’s head, “We aren’t fucking up your schedule because it’s our anniversary. “

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yup, now, make me a cup too. I tried some last night because I couldn’t sleep and that stuff is good,” Eliot said, pressing his lips against Quentin’s neck.

 

. . .

 

“Are you going home for winter break?” Eliot asked, looking at Quentin.

 

“No,” Quentin shrugged, “I mean, it starts in two days anyway. Wouldn’t I have begun packing?”

 

“Why are you staying here?”

 

“The only people back home I would want to see are Nick and Julia. I can always make a day to see them, or they can come up here. And I doubt my mom wants to see me. Plus, I want to be here with you and Mar. You two, besides Nick and Julia, are my family. I want to be with my family for the holidays.”

 

“So, you are saying you are staying with Bambi and me?” Eliot’s tone was small and quiet, uncommon for him.

 

Quentin looked over at Eliot, confused and concerned, “El, what’s wrong.”

 

Eliot sighed, looking away from Quentin. Worry gathered in Quentin’s core, fearful for Eliot’s silence and what may happen, “Baby?”

 

“It’s our first Christmas together.”

 

“Yeah? Is that okay?”

 

Eliot nodded, “Back home, Christmas was this huge deal. Mom would decorate the tree while listening to Christmas music. Most of the time, George, Wesley, and John were outside helping my dad with whatever farm task was needed. I helped Mom with the tree.”

 

Quentin nodded, listening. Eliot didn’t talk about his family a lot. Eliot began opening up to Quentin two months into their relationship, sharing the abusive and toxic household he was raised in.

 

“I think she knew that I was gay. Way back before I did. I think she knew that if I were to help my dad with farm tasks, it wouldn’t end well. So, she offered me to help decorate the tree. She made the excuse she needed a man to help her carry the boxes of ornaments. Everyone but my dad knew what she was doing. Sometimes I miss decorating the tree with her, you know? We would sing songs and dance in the living room, so carefree. But I can’t forgive her. She never stopped him, Quentin. She let him hurt me. She let him hit me thinking it would make me less gay. John was the only one who tried to stick up for me. But he left as soon as he turned 18 and never looked back.”

 

Eliot’s hands began to shake, his memories getting the best of him. Quentin took Eliot’s hands, kissing them. He tugged Eliot to him, and Eliot rested his head on Quentin’s chest. Quentin kissed Eliot’s hairline.

 

“Can we do that? Get a tree and decorate it with Bambi. I know you don’t really celebrate Christmas and Bambi doesn’t either.”

 

“Of course, El. We can get a tree and decorate a tree.”

 

Eliot nodded, sighing, “You can get Nick and Julia to come up at some point. They are going to need to get a hotel to stay in, but Nick can invite his boyfriend. And Julia can invite Penny and Kady. Fen and Josh can come too. Alice can come too if she wants. We can all go out to dinner.”

 

“That sounds nice. I’ll FaceTime Julia and Nick tonight and ask when would be a good time.”

 

“Okay, I’m excited to spend Christmas with you.”

 

Quentin smiled, “I am too.”

 

. . .

 

When Nick and Julia arrived, they immediately kicked Eliot out of the bedroom and locking the door behind them. They both hadn’t seen Quentin in months, and they all needed catching up to do.

 

“Okay, so how if living with Eliot in an apartment instead of a dorm?” Julia asked, “Is it everything you thought?”

 

“It’s been great,” Quentin grinned, “There have been moments where we get sick of each other, but for the most part it’s been great. We aren’t in the honeymoon phase, that broke back when we were living in the dorm, and the medicine thing happened—”

 

“I still can’t believe that happened because you had desk sex,” Nick said, “Either that desk is ridiculously small, or you and Eliot have ridiculously intense sex.”

 

“Probably both,” Julia teased, “Given that two weeks Eliot was at Q’s house. You guys were so loud!”

 

Quentin blushed, falling back into the pillows, “Can we not talk about my sex life.”

 

Nick laughed, “I’m glad your happy, though. So, what is the plan for the next couple of days?”

 

“We are going out to dinner with Margo and her boyfriend, Josh, and girlfriend, Fen. Julia is bringing Penny and Kady, and you are bringing John. Which, by the way, Eliot still doesn’t know is his brother. It’s a small world, but I hope he won’t be upset with me.”

 

“Small world is right,” Nick laughed, “Who knew each other’s boyfriend’s brother. That sounds like a shitty romcom.”

 

“Eliot still doesn’t know?”

 

Quentin shook his head, “Eliot hasn’t been in touch with his family since he graduated high school. John left when he was like fifteen or sixteen.”

 

“John still regrets not taking Eliot with him,” Nick said, “We’ve talked a little about his childhood. John doesn’t like talking about it.”

 

“Hopefully he won’t get mad,” Julia said, “It’s not like you planned this.”

 

Nick nodded, “I’ll give John a heads up. If Eliot gets upset, then John and I will leave.”

 

Quentin nodded, fiddling with his ring. Nick and Julia looked at each other, concerned, “I’m sure he won’t be mad at you, Q,” Nick said.

 

“I still didn’t tell him.”

 

“Let’s not think about that,” Julia said.

 

Quentin nodded, smiling at Nick and Julia.

 

The next day, Eliot and Quentin arrived at the restaurant early. Quentin bounced, nervously, “Q, why are you so nervous?” Eliot asked, wrapping his arms from behind Quentin.

 

“It’s a lot of people. The waitress can easily get confused. We have like ten people coming to dinner.”

 

“If they didn’t think the staff could handle it, then they wouldn’t have booked up.”

 

Quentin nodded, leaning into Eliot’s embrace. Eventually, everyone arrived other than Nick and John. Quentin and Nick planned on him being the last to arrive so they could quickly leave. When Quentin saw Nick’s car in the parking lot, he turned to Eliot, “Please, don’t be upset, okay?”

 

Eliot furrowed his eyebrows, “Why would I be upset?”

 

Nick and John walked to the table, slowly. John looked nervous, more nervous than Quentin. Eliot looked at Nick and John, and his hold on Quentin loosened, “John?”

 

Margo looked up, “Your brother John? Coldwater, what did you plan?”

 

“Eliot,” Nick said, pausing, “It turns out that my boyfriend is actually your brother. But Quentin and I didn’t know that until he invited us to dinner.”

 

Eliot stepped away from Quentin, and Quentin’s stomach dropped. He swallowed. John looked at them, sighing, “If you want Nick and I to leave, we can. I left you with Dad to deal with him on your own, and that was shitty of me.”

 

“Damn right,” Margo muttered.

 

Everyone at the table ignored her, “I asked Quentin not to tell you because I didn’t want it to get in the way of Nick coming up here.”

 

“You left.”

 

John bit his lip, “I left.”

 

“Why did you never tell me you were gay?”

 

“Bisexual,” John corrected, “but I was afraid. I saw how Dad acted when you came out, and it freaked me out. I haven’t talked to them since you graduated.”

 

“It went to hell after you left. He got even worse. I didn’t have anyone to stand up for me.”

 

“Eliot, I’m sorry.”

 

“I think you should go,” Eliot said, sternly, “You too Quentin.”

 

Quentin whimpered, looking at Eliot, “El—”

 

“Just go to the apartment. Julia, if you want to leave too, go. But I don’t want to be around you right now.”

 

Quentin swallowed, nodded, “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

 

“Yes, you should have. Now please, go. Before I say something, I regret.”

 

Quentin nodded, grabbing his jacket, quickly leaving the restaurant while blinking away tears. Nick, quickly, went after Quentin. John sighed, glancing at Eliot before following Nick, “Fuck, Quentin, I’m sorry.”

 

Quentin ran a shaky hand through his hair, biting his lip, “Can someone give me a ride to the apartment?”

 

“Nick and I are staying with you,” Julia said, “We aren’t leaving you alone.”

 

“Julia, I’m not going to hurt myself because Eliot is upset with me.”

 

“Jules is right,” Nick said, “We will have Penny, Kady, and John go back to the hotel. We will stay with you. You might think you are fine, Q, but you know how your thoughts get.”

 

. . .

 

Julia and Nick fell asleep after one hit. Quentin, however, couldn’t sleep. Eliot still wasn’t home—along with Margo. Quentin glanced at the clock, sighing at three in the morning came. Quentin paced in the kitchen, biting his nails. Quentin looked at his phone, waiting for Eliot to text him.

 

_Eliot, when are you coming home? –Quentin_

_El? –Quentin_

_You don’t need to talk to me, just let me know you are okay –Quentin_

_Please, message me. I need to know you are safe –Quentin_

_Please, tell me you are okay. –Quentin_

_Do you hate me? –Quentin_

_I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I fucked up, please. Text or call me. –Quentin_

Quentin covered his face, swallowing, “Q, why are you still up?” Julia asked, rubbing her eyes, “It’s three in the morning.”

 

“El hasn’t replied to me yet. I don’t know if he’s okay.  
  


Julia yawned, walking over to Quentin, taking his hands, “Margo is still out. That means he is with her.”

 

“But what if they went to a bar and she lost track of him? What if something happened to him? What if he’s hurt or dead in an alley or—”

 

“Q, breath with me,” Julia said, “Did you take your medicine tonight?”

 

Quentin shook his head, “I forgot.”

 

“Okay, then we are going to go get it from the bathroom, okay? I’ll stay up with you until this anxiety episode passes.”

 

“No. Sleep. I’ll be fine.”

 

Both Julia and Quentin jumped when Quentin’s phone rang. Quentin grabbed it, sighing in relief when it was Eliot’s number, “El?”

 

“I just got all your messages. I turned my phone off after you left. Fuck, Q, why are you still awake?”

 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

Eliot sighed, “I’m okay. Now, please, sleep. I just needed to be away tonight to think things over.”

 

“Are you mad at me?”

 

“No, I’m not. I don’t even think I’m hurt. I’m shocked, that’s all. I haven’t seen John since I was like sixteen.”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

 

“I know, somehow John got my phone number and left this long voice message. I’m meeting with him tomorrow at a coffee shop.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Now go to sleep.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“Love you too. I’ll be at the apartment tomorrow. I’m staying at Josh’s tonight.”

 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

For a moment, there was silence, “Yeah. Probably.”

 

Quentin swallowed, and Julia looked at him, concerned, “Okay.”

 

There was another silent pause, “And Quentin?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I appreciate the thought, though. I just wish you didn’t spring it on me.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I forgive you, baby, I do.”

 

“Why did you decide to call?”

 

“After I turned my phone on and I got your stream of messages, Margo said I needed to tell you I was okay. Because since you were texting past your regular sleep time, she made the educated guess you weren’t going to sleep tonight.”

 

“Smart move on her. Julia and Nick are here at the apartment.”

 

“Good, she also might have scolded me for leaving you alone in the apartment. She agrees with me, but she still thought it was shitty for me to leave you alone. Which I get, but I also didn’t want to say something that may hurt you.”

 

“I should go. Julia woke up like thirty minutes ago and is waiting for me to take my medicine. She isn’t—”

 

“You skipped your meds?”

 

“By accident, it wasn’t on purpose,” Quentin said, beginning to feel the anxiety form in his chest again, “I—I was distracted and time went by too fast, and I was already panicking before, so I forgot and—”

 

“Quentin, no need to explain yourself to me. I’m not upset you missed a dosage. If you were alone, that’s a different story. But you had Nick and Julia there to walk you through it.”

 

“Quentin,” Julia said, “I’m going to go get in from your room, and then you can take it and drink your tea, okay?”

 

Quentin nodded, watching Julia leave. He walked over to the stove, heating a pot of water, “I’m going to put my phone away now. Are you sure you are okay?”

 

Eliot sighed, and Quentin imagined Eliot running a hand through his hair, “Baby, I’m okay. It just brought up some memories, but I’m okay.”

 

“If you need to be away from me, I get it. Just tell me you are okay if you don’t come home.”

 

“Okay, I will. I’ll let you know if I need more time apart. This isn’t a break-up, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Now, go to bed. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

 

“No, I get it. You needed time.”

 

“Yes, I did. But I also know how your brain gets sometimes. Jumps to the worst possible outcomes so you can prepare yourself.”

 

“That’s not fair to you, El. You don’t need to put yourself last, so my mental health doesn’t act up. It’s no excuse.”

 

“I know. I’m going to hang up now. I’ll talk to you later. I love you.”

 

“Love you too, goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight.’

 

The phone call ended, and Quentin made his cup of tea. He and Julia sat together; Julia was playing with his hair as he dozed off.

 

. . .

 

Two days went by before Eliot came back to the apartment. They talked to each other, briefly. Eliot made sure to text Quentin at the end of the day. When Eliot walked into their bedroom—Quentin was typing on his laptop—Quentin jumped off the bed, nearly sending his laptop to the floor, and collided into Eliot’s chest, wrapping his arms around Eliot.

 

“I’m sorry, Eliot. I’m so, so, so sorry. I was stupid and thoughtless and—”

 

Eliot, wrapping his arms around Quentin, “Q, we’ve already discussed how I have forgiven you. I’m not upset; I promise.”

 

“You aren’t just saying that? I don’t want you to push it all down, and then you feel trapped. Or that you explode over something like me spilling water or something.”

 

Eliot chuckled, running a hand through Quentin’s hair, “I’m serious. We’ve talked it out a lot over the phone, and we are moving on from there.”

 

Quentin nodded, “How did meeting John go?”

 

“Good, we exchanged numbers. He apologized like five times for causing problems between us. He said you wanted to tell me. But John was scared if you did, Nick would have to make a choice.”

 

“I really didn’t know he was your brother. We all realized when I invited Nick and John told us he had a brother named Eliot. That was like two days before they were coming down.”

 

“Yeah, John mentioned that.”

 

Quentin pulled away, his arms still wrapped around Eliot’s waist, and looked at Eliot, “Should we redo dinner?”

 

Eliot, brushing the hair out of Quentin’s face, shrugged, “We can just do something here. Everyone can come here, and we can drink and eat snack foods. We can exchange gifts too.”

 

Quentin nodded, “Okay.”

 

Eliot pecked Quentin’s lips before pulling away, “Now, come shower with me. I can tell by your hair you haven’t done it since the dinner.”

 

. . .

 

With Eliot at work, Quentin worked on a paper in the bedroom. The second semester began weeks ago, and the time for the first paper and tests arrived. Luckily, for Quentin, he was writing about a topic he enjoyed.

 

“Hey, Q,” Margo said, leaning against the doorframe, “Can we talk?”

 

Quentin nodded, closing his laptop, “Is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, I was just checking in about El’s birthday that’s coming up. When would you be free to throw a surprise party?”

 

“Should we do it on his birthday?”

 

“His birthday is a Sunday this year, so I highly doubt he wants to get wasted when he has his early class Monday.”

 

“What about that Friday?”

 

“That what I was thinking.”

 

Quentin stared at Margo, nervously, “Are we doing it here?”

 

“No, it’ll get too loud. We are going to this party house downtown. Why?”

 

Quentin shifted, uncomfortably, “Are you inviting a lot of people?”

 

“Q, don’t be worried about being sober, okay? Also, don’t be worried about there being too many people. There’s going to be at least fifty or sixty, but the venue is pretty big.”

 

Quentin nodded, biting his lip, “How far is it? Since I’ll be the only sober one, I kind of need to know if I need to bring a car or not.”

 

“You’d need a car.”

 

“Okay, we aren’t giving his gifts though until his actual birthday, right?”

 

Margo nodded, “What did you get him?”

 

Quentin, glancing at the closet, thought about his gift, “It’s nothing special.”

 

“Is it a sex thing? He was complaining to me about how you tore his ties a couple of weeks ago.”

 

Quentin blushed, coughing, “None of your business!”

 

Laughing, Margo sat on the bed, “Are they satin? Silk? Do they make you sensitive at the touch?”

 

“Margo,” Quentin groaned.

 

“Q, just tell me what it is.”

 

Quentin glanced at her, “It’s not a sex thing.”

 

“Then, what is it? I won’t judge.”

 

“It’s a mini bar. I still need to put it together, but it’s so he can make drinks at home. Because it’s awkward in the kitchen because there’s so much happening there.”

 

“You’re too cute, Q. Make sure to include his favorite drinks in it.”

 

“I can’t buy alcohol!”

 

Margo rolled her eyes, “Fine; I’ll buy the drinks—since you refuse to get a fake—and give it as a present from me.”

 

“You’re the best, Margo.”

 

“Damn, right I am.”

 

The party went by fast. Quentin, for most the night, was on edge. He felt out of place at the party. Most of the guests were intoxicated, and Quentin was unable to drink. For some of the night, he stayed by Eliot’s side but soon left so Eliot could mingle. He observed, from afar, Eliot talking with others. He liked seeing Eliot socialize with others. He always did it with ease—something Quentin never could master.  

 

“Quentin!” Eliot said, wrapping his arms around Quentin’s neck, “This was such a great idea!” he slurred, “You and Margo are amazing!”

 

Quentin laughed, “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

 

Eliot kissed Quentin’s cheek, “So much fun. I haven’t partied in forever! I haven’t been this drunk in over a month!”

 

At times, Eliot’s alcohol consumption worried Quentin. Quentin knew the signs of alcoholism, but he knew better than to bring it up to Eliot.

 

“But, I like it. Keeps me more alert, you know.”

 

Quentin smiled, kissing Eliot’s shoulder, “I know.”

 

“Now, let’s dance. I haven’t ever been able to grind you, and that is unacceptable.”

 

. . .

 

When Quentin woke up, Eliot’s head was on his chest, and Eliot’s arms were wrapped around Quentin’s waist. This position was rare, mostly happened when Eliot had a nightmare or bad night. However, Quentin loved it. Quentin smiled, looking down at Eliot’s sleeping form. He wanted to wake up next to Eliot every single day for the rest of his life. He wanted to marry Eliot.

 

“Eliot Waugh,” Quentin whispered, not wanting to wake him up, “I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This became so long, I am so sorry for the 7,000+ words of nonsense, but I will be doing a fic for each year of their undergrad experience.


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